Perfect Symmetry

I stepped outside, closing the door behind me, and fixed him with a stare. I folded my arms across my chest to try and look as intimidating as possible...but he was just so tall.

He looked surprised at my reaction. “I uh...I needed to see you before playoffs started.”

I rolled my eyes. “You idiot, are you skipping practices to come out here? It’s the fucking Stanley Cup, Jonathan.”

His eyes narrowed. “I know what it is, Jazz. I just wanted to talk to you and when I got to your place Hailey said you were out of town.”

“And she told you where I was?” I asked incredulously.

Jonathan shrugged. “After I pushed her, yes.”

“What a traitor,” I whispered, pulling out my phone and texting her angrily.

He put his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t be angry at her. I wouldn’t leave her alone.”

“It doesn’t matter, she’s my best friend, she’s supposed to stand by me,” I retorted, sending my angry text and looking back up at Jon. “So what exactly did you need to say to me that was so important you left Chicago during playoff season instead of just calling me like a normal person.”

He looked uncomfortable. “Can we go for a walk or something?”

I sighed and nodded. He looked out of place in my little suburban neighborhood. None of my neighbors had ever seen me with any boy, never mind a man like Jonathan Toews. Not that any of my neighbors would recognize him, but still.

We walked down my street in silence. He followed me obediently, since he didn’t know the neighborhood and looked rather lost.

“So Hailey gave you my address too, I’m assuming?” I broke the silence abruptly.

“Yeah. Something else you can get angry about,” he mumbled.

I fought the smile that was threatening to appear on my face and kept my face stonily calm. I suddenly realized why he was here. Why he flew to fucking San Jose. He felt guilty. And I knew that Jonathan Toews with a guilty conscious could not sleep at night.

“Jon,” I softened my tone, “if this is about...what happened that evening at Sharpie’s place, you didn’t have to fly out here to...discuss it with me.”

He gave me a sharp look. “I had to, Jazz. You ran out like a scared deer after I kissed you.”

I blushed. “I’m sorry about that. It was a bit over-dramatic.”

Jonathan’s brown eyes softened. “No, you don’t have to apologize. I get it. You’re dating somebody else and I kissed you anyway. It must have been tough to handle.”

I was startled. I forgot that nobody, even Jonathan, knew that my relationship with Viktor was over. And I had to tell him now. After all, that’s why he came. He felt bad because I was not his to kiss. He thought he was taking advantage of me and he was wrong. I wanted to kiss him just as much as he wanted to kiss me.

“Jonathan,” I started nervously. “I think I should tell you something.”

He looked concerned. “Oh?”

I winced and balled my hands into fists as I spoke. “Viktor and I broke up weeks ago. I’ve just been stupid and haven’t told anybody. Except Hailey.”

Jonathan froze and looked at me full in the face.

“You and him aren’t...what? Why didn’t you just tell me? Or anybody for that matter?” he demanded with a confused look on his face.

I shrugged. “It was all my fault. He is such a good guy and I fucked the whole thing up.”

“So he broke up with you,” Jon reasoned.

I nodded. “He said that my heart wasn’t in it. I don’t know, maybe he was right. I should have given him more attention. I should have loved him. He was perfect in so many ways.”

Jonathan looked uncomfortable as I went on this rant. He walked quietly next to me.

“So you see,” I concluded. “You have nothing to feel guilty for. I, however, feel horribly guilty for making you feel like you had to fly out to California to apologize to me for nothing.”

“So when I kissed you...you weren’t with Viktor anymore,” Jonathan concluded.

I took a deep breath. “Yes.”

“So then why did you run away all panicky?” he continued, knitting his brow in confusion.

I flinched. I couldn’t tell him that Viktor broke up with me because he saw an attraction between Jonathan and me. How could I tell him that?

“I...I was feeling weird. I was so used to being with Viktor and then you kissed me and...I don’t know, I got scared I guess,” I explained.

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. He still looked a little skeptical, but he kept walking.

“Well I’m sorry you got dumped,” he offered plainly. “He’s an idiot if he thinks he can do better than you.”

My face burned. “Thanks Jonathan. I’m sorry I just left town without saying anything. I just wasn’t ready to own up to things. I wanted to get out of town for a while. It’s nice to be back home.”

Jon glanced around my neighborhood. “So this is where you grew up?”

I nodded. “Pretty idyllic, isn’t it? Nice neighbors, nice weather, nice schools. I had a great childhood.”

He smiled. “That’s good.”

“So when do you head back to Chicago?” I asked curiously.

Jonathan frowned. “Tomorrow. I’ll have to find somewhere to crash. I’m sure there’ll be tons of hotels by the airport.”

I rolled my eyes. “Jon. In my culture it’s an insult if we let a guest stay at a hotel. We have plenty of room at my place, just stay here.”

He looked worried. “What about your parents?”

I batted my hand at him unconcernedly. “They’re fine. They know I’m friends with all of the team. My mother loves having guests. I hope you like Indian food, though, because she’s already cooked chicken and stuff.”

Jon smiled. “I love it, but Kaner always makes us get Thai.”

My face sobered. “Oh, Jon could you tell Kaner about Viktor and I? I think he’s worried I’m depressed or something.”

He chuckled. “Yeah he’s concerned. I’ll tell him if you like.”

“And you might as well tell Burish and Sharpie too,” I winced. “Just make sure they don’t hurt or abuse Viktor during practice. I need you boys to stand together during playoffs.”

Jonathan’s eyes darken. “I can’t promise you anything, but I’ll tell them to take it easy.”

“You’re the captain,” I reminded him. “Keep them in line.”

By this time, we had circled back to my house, and I walked up to the front door and walked in with Jonathan at my heels.

My mother was in the kitchen, cleaning up the counters and watering her plants. She saw me come in and smiled.

“Hey, where did you go?” she queried.

I cleared my throat and Jonathan appeared from behind me. My mom’s smile evaporated and she looked very concerned.

“Mom, this is Jonathan. He’s a good friend from Chicago and he followed me out here,” I explained hastily.

“Needed a break from hockey,” Jonathan added helpfully.

“Right, and he didn’t tell me he was coming, and he just sort of arrived here,” I continued.

“It was a very spur of the moment,” Jon piped in.

“I told him he could stay the night,” I finished, giving my mom a pleading look.

Her face relaxed slightly. “Oh! Of course you can stay, Jonathan. I’ll just go make up the guest room for you.”

“You don’t have to do that; the couch is fine,” Jon assured her gallantly.

My mom shook her head fervently. “No no, the guest room is made for guests. Please, make yourself at home. Have you ever been to San Jose? Jazz could take you around and show you the good parts.”

“There aren’t many,” I joked.

My mom shot me a look. “Yes there are. Take him downtown, hit a museum, have lunch, whatever. Then come home. I’ll have everything sorted out by then.”

I could see she wanted to be at home alone so she could clean the house and make sure the guest room was spit-spot.

So, I took Jonathan out into my little car and drove him to downtown San Jose. Neither of us really wanted to go to an art gallery, but we grabbed a bite to eat and wandered around.

“I’ve been here before,” Jonathan remarked as we walked past HP Pavilion.

I laughed. “Yeah, I imagine you have. So have I. Every game I’ve been to, they’ve won.”

“You must be their good luck charm,” he concluded with a smile.

I chuckled. “Well what do you want to do now? I have a feeing my mom wants us out of the house until the evening.”

“I want to get to know you, not San Jose. Take me to your old high school,” he asked, his brown eyes glinted.

I frowned. “Ugh seriously? High school was not my best era.”

“It’s that way for basically everybody,” Jonathan reminded me. “I just want to see if I can imagine you there.”

I gave him a dirty look but we got back in the car and drove back to my neighborhood. Thank goodness, it was a Saturday and the high school was deserted.

“This is the place. Four shitty years,” I sighed, getting out of the car.

Jonathan glanced around. “Very retro.”

“Built in the 60’s,” I explained with a grin.

We walked the halls and I pointed out my classes and the gym and the secret corners where couples would go to make out.

“So where did Chip the football player ask you to the school dance?” Jonathan teased.

“Ha!” I snorted. “I was not popular in high school. I never even dated until college.”

Jonathan looked aghast. “Never?”

I blushed. “It’s true. I never even went to a dance with a boy, and you and the others are the most athletic guys I’ve ever even talked to.”

His eyebrows shot up. “I never would have guessed.”

We walked toward my old locker, number 1952, and I touched the lock fondly. High school may not have been as glamourous or as crazy for me as for some of the other kids in school, but I had learned a lot and made some good friends.

“Your locker?” Jonathan asked, wandering over to see what I was looking at.

“Yeah,” I smiled nostalgically.

“I knew you had at least a few good memories from this place,” he accused, standing close behind me as I tried too sneak a peek into the locker.

I shrugged. “I was smart, but I wasn’t particularly popular.”

“Popularity isn’t everything,” he remarked.

“Says the most popular guy in Chicago,” I teased; twisting my head to look up at his long, firm build.
He smiled, shaking his head at me and putting a strong hand on my waist. I gulped and looked at him properly.

“Are you sure you want to re-open this can of worms?” I whispered as he bent down towards me.

Jonathan smirked. “Yes.”

His lips met mine and I staggered backwards, hitting the wall of one of my old English classrooms immediately. Jonathan kept his hand on my waist and let the other one graze my ribcage, just under my breast. One of my hands cupped his jaw while the other rested helplessly on his chest. He dwarfed me; his limbs kept me pressed to his body and arms kept me from running away again. His lips moved softly but rapidly, straying to my cheeks and jaw line before returning to my lips.

When I finally pulled away, we were still wrapped up in each other, and neither of us moved. We were breathing heavily, and for once I wasn’t too shy to look him straight in the eyes.

My thoughts were only of Jonathan. Viktor never even crossed my mind. I was preoccupied with Jon’s muscles, his warmth, and his experienced lips.

“I...” I struggled to find words as Jonathan pushed hair off of my face.

“I know,” he agreed, pressing his forehead to mine.

I smiled. “You gave me my first high school kiss.”

He laughed. “I suppose I did.”

“I never had any hot stories that related to high school and now I do,” I rambled childishly, trying to piece together what this kiss meant.

Jonathan looked serious now. “I think we need to talk.”

I nodded, and he untangled himself from me and we walked to the benches in front of the school. My limbs felt numb and my heart was racing. This kiss had been perfect; a million times better than the kiss at Patrick Sharp’s place a few days ago.

“I need to know if you’re still stuck on Stalberg,” Jonathan asked flatly as soon as we sat down.

I blinked. “Jon. No. You...I haven’t thought about him in a while.”

“But you only just broke up and I don’t want to force you into anything,” he continued. “And I don’t want you second guessing.”

“I think we’re rushing into serious things here,” I replied gently. “I think you have to focus on one thing: hockey. The playoffs start in a few days and I really want you to kick some Nashville ass.”

Jonathan smiled at that. “I came out here because I wanted to see you, you know. It wasn’t just that I felt bad. I wanted to talk about it.”

“This is what I mean. I don’t want to distract you. You’re captain, you have to lead. So go play. I’ll be here, cheering you and the rest of the boys on. I’ll think about how I feel, you play. I...I think I want to be with you, Jon, I just...I might need time, if you’re willing to wait,” I asked shyly.

Jonathan leaned over and kissed me softly. “You’re right. I’ll be living and breathing hockey for the next couple of months. But I don’t want to cut you out. I know you need time, but I’ll need a support system for the playoffs.”

I beamed. “I’m always glad to be your support system. But I don’t want to mislead you. I have to take things slow; I...I think I’ve wanted this for a while now.”

His grin spread slowly as I said that. “Thank God; I thought I was some kind of heathen lusting after you when you were in a relationship with someone else.”

I laughed. “Go back to Chicago tomorrow, Jon. And I’ll see you there in a week or so for game two. We’ll figure out...what this is after the playoffs are over, which hopefully won’t be until June.”

He nodded. “That sounds good.”

“Good. Now let’s get back to my house; my mom’s probably wondering what happened to us,” I glanced at the time and stood up.
~
My mom was indeed ready, with the table set for four and candles and the smell of warm food emanating from the kitchen. My dad returned from his day out with a couple of friends and greeted Jonathan warmly. Obviously my mom had warned him of the extra guest.

We sat down to eat and the conversation floated and flowed freely about light subjects. We all drank glasses of wine, and Jonathan seemed to like my mom’s chicken.

“It’s not too spicy, is it Jonathan?” my mom asked anxiously.

He shook his head. “It’s just spicy enough. I don’t eat Indian food as much as I would like to, and this is delicious.”

“Well I’m glad you like it,” she beamed proudly.

My dad was halfway done with his plate when he started giving Jonathan the once-over.

“So you play hockey for those Blackhawks too?” he asked coolly.

Jonathan nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Dad he’s the captain,” I added quickly, taking a sip of wine.

He looked impressed. “I think you guys have a good chance against the Predators. You’ll take them down.”

Jon laughed. “I think so too, sir.”

“But I think the Sharks can beat the Avalanche no problem. We came top of the West you know,” he bragged.

Jonathan cleared his throat. “Yes, I know. But we finished one point behind the Sharks.”

“Well if the two teams ever meet, which I think is likely, I’m afraid Jazz won’t be able to talk to you,” Dad joked.

I winced. “Dad!”

“What? It’s true; you’ve always been a die-hard Sharks fan. Thanks for the autographed Thornton jersey by the way,” he said enthusiastically.

I smiled. “I’m glad you like it. He’s a great guy.”

The rest of dinner went by leisurely, with the whole group talking for a while. At about ten my dad retired upstairs, and Jonathan did the same. I stayed down to help my mother clean up.

“So what happened while you were out with him today?” she asked immediately.

I raised my eyebrows. “What?”

“He looked at you differently. Is he the reason Viktor broke up with you?” she continued her interrogation with narrowed eyes.

I put down the dish I was washing and looked at my mother in the eyes before answering.

“I don’t know what Jonathan is. He’s my friend...but...I don’t know. Call me in a couple months and ask me the same question,” I answered carefully.

“Well I think he likes you,” she stated.

“I think he thinks he likes me,” I muttered. “But I need him to think about things. And I need to think too. I just got out of a long relationship.”

“Viktor seemed nice, Jazz, but he’s no Jonathan,” my mother smiled knowingly and passed me the last dish.

I rinsed it, loaded into the dishwasher, and slammed the door on the washer and my thoughts.